


Heart Of The Forest.

by bliphany



Category: Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Blood, Thriller, Violence, however things will be sorted out before the end, mentioned violence toward women, not an using women as targets of violence story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10414620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bliphany/pseuds/bliphany
Summary: The Huntsman changed his mind and killed Snow White.But her story just began.





	

The Huntsman changed his mind and killed Snow White. Her scooped out heart was still beating in his hand. Thump thump. Thump thump. The Huntsman was proud of his skill; what a legend it would be, he thought, if he got back to the palace before the heart realized its death. He struck out of the house, a heavy bag in hand. The heart was placed inside; its blood was seeping out. The Huntsman tied the bag to his belt, letting his pants be stained. Preys' blood showed the hunter's bravery, it always did.

The Huntsman fastened his cloak. The night before, the dwarfs put it near the fire for him. Still warm, it could shelter him from the chilly wind. He mounted his horse and left.

That spilled blood was soon absorbed. On the spot, many dark green buds emerged out of the earth. They grabbed and grabbed into the air, like baby's fingers, getting longer. They crept onto the threshold; intertwined, tangled, and then settled.

The trip back to the palace went smoothly. Those side roads and hidden paths once confusing disappeared. He rode north, believing it was the way home. As if there was a blessing guiding him, whenever he met a fork in the road, whispers of wind and shadows of trees led the right direction. He couldn't help but sing:

"The hero returns, bringing back her heartbeats. The curse was thus ended, thus ended."

Seven days before, the priest of the palace proclaimed the hunt of Snow White. Looking up piously, villagers asked for enlightenment:

"The highest, instruct me. Why the kingdom's princess must die?"

"Wearing a princess' skin but an untamed heart. Wandering in the forest not being told; speaking things not being taught. A catastrophe is coming."

"The highest, instruct me. What will she bring to us?"

"Flood swelled in her eyes. It will flood the kingdom if no one prevents."

Villagers prayed fearfully, "The highest, instruct me. How to prevent the death?"

"Seize her heartbeats. End the curse. Anything can be named, who accomplishes the task will claim."

The Huntsman memorized those oracles well. He hummed with joy. The hero they praised he would be.

At midnight, the moon hung above the forest. Two more days till the full moon night. Wolves howled in the distance. In this speed, the Huntsman judged, he would pass the forest's north border in a day, arrive the palace in another. He patted the bag, satisfied. He found a giant tree; its root tacked into the earth. A perfect shelter for staying the night. The Huntsman decided to rest till the sun rose. He smiled into his dream, counting his treasures in advance.

A voice woke him up. _Who's it?_ He wondered, but was soon aware; _there's no other man._ Must be a dream, he thought. The voice spoke again:

_Alas, alas. What a shame._

It sounded like the voice was trapped.

The Huntsman looked around, finding the source. It was from the bag. He untied it, shocked to see the heart was still beating. She pumped out blood, flooding the bag, and then expanded, absorbing all the blood back again. Thump thump, thump thump, she repeated it. And then, again.

_Alas, alas. What a shame._

Her voice was louder and clearer.

Villagers believed the forest was enchanted, only dared to pass it during the noon, with sunlight intense enough to penetrate the woods. Even the priest, who held the highest magical power, refused to enter the forest in person. But the Huntsman was the smartest, the bravest man in the kingdom. He walked in and out the forest when there was no sunlight. Upon smelling his scent, birds and animals fled away. Villagers praised he was as brave as the castle's tower, as tough as the stone wall, so strong that his arms could stop the river.

Even him, however, was stunned by the strange scene in front of his eyes.

_You should have know better. What a shame._

The opening of the bag moved as the heart shrunk and expanded, looked like a big bloody mouth, ranting. The Huntsman came to his senses; he spat into it and scolded, "Play any trick you want, I'll take you to the palace. I'll claim my treasures and your time will end."

_How confident, the toughest, the bravest Huntsman. Ah, what a shame._

The Huntsman stopped at what he was doing and listened. He hadn't closed the bag's mouth, a string in his the other hand; he held it tight as if it tied to his fate.

_Thus smoothly went the trip, thus smart as you still failed to comprehend. Ah, what a shame._

The Huntsman shook his head, letting out a breath he had been holding. He closed the bag's mouth, tied it tight using the string. He tied it onto the saddle, away from where he slept, determined not to hear the voice no matter what she was going to say.

She didn't speak anymore. Until the first sunlight shone into the forest, only wolves howl he heard.

The Huntsman had hit the road before there was full daylight. The bag was hung below the horse's neck, swaying. The Huntsman told himself he just didn't want to hear her spoke. Once his task was done, all these were nothing but a legend sung. There would not be her voice in the story.

Whenever he met a fork in the road, the Huntsman dismounted to check the direction. His intuition claimed it was the right way, since the shade of trees was thinner and sunlight stronger, it was the path toward the north border. But he couldn't get rid of the voice. He couldn't be sure whether it was his intuition or a lie from the witchcraft. He kept going back to the last fork to make sure. On the way he had passed, the shade of trees was indeed thicker, but still, he was worried. He didn't remember there had been so many trees the last time he saw. They seemed growing. The path was narrower, almost disappeared. His doubt dragged his pace and his mood. He was so tired.

Just this moment, the Huntsman heard there was a river streaming. Praising the priest's blessing, he decided to take a rest and let the horse drink water. He dismounted and walked toward it.

Upon seeing the river, the Huntsman was relieved. The horse rushed forward and bent over to drink. The Huntsman did the same, but just when he filled his hands with water, he sensed the smell of blood.

He turned his head and found the bag hung below the horse's neck was bleeding, dropping into the river, staining the ground.

The Huntsman cursed. How could he not aware of it on the way? He must have traveled too fast. He untied the bag. To his surprise, the heart jumped abruptly and made him scream. He failed to hold it tight. The bag fell on the ground. His pants were spilled. There was blood all over them.

The Huntsman rushed to the water to clean them. But the blood on his pants couldn't be washed away. They kept bleeding as if coming from his own wound.

His intuition said: just leave, leave this enchanted forest, go back to the palace and you would be safe. But there was only a voice yelling inside his head: _I have to clean this up._

He stayed there until his fingers hurt, the river was redder than eventide, his face paler than the rising moon.

Fell to the ground, the Huntsman could tell there were beasts came near. They were waiting. But he was too exhausted to care.

And then, the voice spoke again:

_The smartest Huntsman, answer me. How did you get to Snow White?_

His lips moved as if they had their own free will, "I pretended to get lost while collecting wood. The dwarfs took me back to their house. They said I could stay the night."

_The toughest Huntsman, answer me. What did you promise Snow White when you showed her your truth purpose?_

The Huntsman pulled every will he had, his lower lip was chewed bloody by his teeth, but still, he failed to remain silence, "Cook a meal for me. I will spare your life. Take a wolf's heart to claim my prize."

The Huntsman bit the inside of his mouth, determined never answer further questions, her voice rose again:

_The bravest Huntsman, answer me. Before you killed her, what did you say to Snow White?_

"I said," the Huntsman could taste the stinking smell all over in his mouth. He pulled every strength he had, but still, he failed to keep his mouth shut, "I save your life. Smile."

_Haha- Haha-_

She was indeed laughing. The Huntsman felt the whole forest was whispering.

Probably out of fear, or a hunch caused by his shame, the Huntsman yelled at the forest, "Keep playing tricks. I've killed you once, I can do it again." He pulled his knife and jumped to the bag. He would smash the heart into pieces. Those trees suddenly moved toward him. The Huntsman wasn't sure, was it an illusion, that he had lost his mind, or the forest was indeed denser, taller, and stronger.

_How confident. Believing everything is up to you._

Wolves howls pushed near, there might be a pack. The Huntsman decided to leave the bag, climbed onto the horse and fled sway. He must get out of this cursed forest. Treasures, money, fame, nothing was more important than his life. He resented. He just did what was told. It was the priest that announced she was evil, nobody disagreed. It was this forest that confused people, led her way stray. It was her that chose to act abnormal, didn't know when to keep her mouth shut.

In his back, the Huntsman could hear the sound of trees moving rapidly, giant tree roots emerging out of the earth. His legs were soaking wet and icy cold, bleeding. The blood dropped to the ground. Countless finger-like buds stretched out, grabbing and grabbing, inevitably caught the horse's hoofs. The horse jumped and let the Hunstman fall. To his right, the Huntsmen found several pairs of wolf's eyes lurking in the dark.

He refused to give up. _Heroes never give up._ The Huntsman struck his feet and ran. He was still on the right path home, he could feel it. Don't give up, he told himself, pass the forest's border, to which will be the journey's end.

The voice thundered near his ears:

_You are at the border. It's not you that moving. It's always me._

The Huntsman paralyzed. Trees' branches caught up and were now intertwining above him.

_You should have know better. Once I got free on this land, everything is up to me._

_Thump thump. Thump thump._ The sound got louder and louder. The Huntsman couldn't tell whether it was from the fiercely pumping veins in his ears, or from the heart of the forest.

Before his sight was permanently blocked by the dark green shade, the Huntsman saw a pack of wolves pressing toward him in a half circle. Excitement shone in their darkest eyes.

  

***

It was said the forest to the southwest of the palace weirdly expanded its territory. In three days, it extended to and beyond the castle's gate. Failing to get away on time, guards were stabbed through their chest, hung high. The forest flooded the castle. Looking from the village, there was no sight of the stone wall, as if the palace never existed. No one ever walked out from the castle. Some villagers said time stopped inside the castle. Some said that was only a fairy tale version, a less cruel one.

At nights, the forest extended a little, until its border touched the northern mountain. Since then, villagers dared not to enter the forest at any time. Some people risked their life, trying to prove their bravery. They were never be seen again. Young hunters moved out of the village. Birds and animals and trees thrived as time went by. Fearing its power, villagers moved to the core of the village, using its abandoned border as barriers.

One day, a little boy got lost. People said he walked into the forest and was taken by the forest witch. After three months, a full moon night, people who heard the wolves howls armed themselves and prepared for a fight. Instead, they found the little boy at the foot of the northern mountain, unharmed. They said it all depended on her mood, which couldn't be understood, just as the moon. Others claimed the boy was cursed and kept a distance from his mother and him. The mother cried more tears than that when the boy had been missing. Desperate, she decided to ask the wise doctor for help.

By appearance, the wise doctor was just an old woman. But no one ever saw her when she was a little girl, and no one knew how long she had been living in the village. Once upon a time, she was respected, known as who healed and taught. After the kingdom had claimed the land, people listened only to the priest of the palace, she moved to the edge and lived alone. After the kingdom was destroyed, people fled in the fear of the forest, she remained living there, undisturbed.

The mother held the little boy's hand, pleaded her for enlightenment. The old woman wasn't slightly worried whether the boy was cursed. She narrowed her wrinkled eyes and asked:

"My child, tell me. Who did you meet in the forest?"

"A beautiful princess. Her skin was as pale as the moon. Her lips was as red as blood. Her hair was as dark as wolves' eyes."

"My child, tell me. How did you find the way home?"

The little boy smiled, "She held my hand and we walked pass rivers, pass the cave of wolves, and to the feet of the mountain."

"My child, tell me. Do you have any question you want to ask me?

The little boy considered for a moment, then rose his head, curiosity in his eyes, "People say the forest was terrifying, one day it will conquer our home. Why wasn't the princess afraid?"

The old woman smiled for the first time that day, "A real witch never afraid of the forest, it's her original home. And your home is also safe," she patted the boy's head gently, "people might think those as her attempts to conquer, but what a witch tries to protect, at any cost, are only her will and boundaries."

**Author's Note:**

> This was sort of a prompt practice. I got the sentences "The Huntsman changed his mind and killed Snow White" as the story's opening. Apparently, I didn't want to write it as it was implied, so this is how it ended. This was originally written in my first language, which wasn't English, so if any part's tone sounded weird, it's probably because my bad translation (of my own story... yeah that happened a lot.) I really hope you enjoy this version. Please, feel free to tell me anything. Thoughts? Feelings? If I did something bad and you feel comfortable enough to tell me, then please do. I appreciate it!


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